


Talal

by GhostlyWitchAvenger



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Tags May Change, Wakes & Funerals, Winona's A+ Parenting, if khan's blood didn't work, mckirk if you squint really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyWitchAvenger/pseuds/GhostlyWitchAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They hoped and they tried, so very hard. But all of their efforts were in vain. Captain James T. Kirk’s luck finally ran out.</p><p>Talal is Vulcan for 'the act of finding; something that is found, especially an unexpectedly valuable discovery (noun)'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a character study.
> 
> Written for Wattpad's #wattys2016 challenge.

Everything was a blur as panic and urgency took hold. Commands were shouted, and nobody ever seemed to comply fast enough.

 

_Get him on that biobed!_

 

_Out of the cryotube!_ Now!

 

_Restrain him!_

 

_Get me some of that blood!_

 

_Run it through this!_

 

_Hurry it up you fools!_

 

He was vaguely aware of himself snapping and growling at anyone he deemed too slow, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had a life to save dammit!

 

“The serum is ready, Doctor McCoy,” Nurse Chapel - _bless her soul_ \- pressed an old hypodermic needle in his palm, the clear liquid holding so much hope. He didn’t wait as he removed the protective casing on the needle, removed the little air that had gathered, and grabbed the Captain’s arm.

 

Everyone watched with bated breath as he slid the sharp metal into the basilic vein, injecting the augmented human’s platelets into the stagnant blood stream. This was all they had left.

 

They had hoped and they had tried, so very hard. But all of their efforts were in vain.

 

In the corner of the room, ignored by all, a Tribble breathed on, cooing and rolling in the corner. So very much alive, unlike the one they tried to save.

 

* * *

 

James T. Kirk, captain of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ , was always a lucky man. Everyone knew it; no one could deny it. As a wise poet once wrote back in the 1300s - _so long ago_ \- all good things must come to an end. And it did.

 

Leonard “Bones” McCoy said nothing to the people around him as he contemplated this thought. Their whispers and comforting looks couldn’t reach him where he was, a place where he had withdrawn into his own mind while nursing an untouched glass of scotch - _so unlike him but he couldn’t bring himself to care_. His gaze never wavered from its spot on the floor, eyeing the frayed rug between his shiny shoes. Shoes, that he got only for this one occasion, he was sure he’d burn once everything was over.

 

He had done everything in his power to fix this, but for once, not only did Jim’s luck fade, but his own as well. _It only takes one time for everything to fail, of course._

 

“Bones?”

 

The man almost started - _but he was too damn tired_ \- as he was brought out of his trance. Suddenly, the whispers were too loud and the stares were burning like hot iron. Nyota looked at him, concern tightening her features. The black dress she wore - _always that God awful black_ \- complimented her figure in a lovely way, but none of that mattered to anyone. Not in this moment. Never, in this moment.

 

“We’re about to have a toast,” Spock - _the infuriating, green-blooded hobgoblin that he was -_ approached silently from behind the beautiful woman, a mug of steaming chocolate gripped tightly in his hands. Bone knew that mug, and he knew that the thin crack that marred the words ‘me boss, you not’ was not there before. He had bought it for Jim as a gag Christmas present the year before, and just remembering the joy and laughter caused a lump to form in his throat and a stinging to blur his vision.

 

“Okay,” Was all he could manage as he stood, following the steady flow of people into the living room, where Jim’s lifeless body lie - _he wasn’t ready to face his failure again._ His voice cracked and he wasn’t sure if it was from disuse, or his sobbing the night prior.

 

He hardly knew anyone here in this small room. There was Scotty in the corner, for once silent and staring into space, his energy gone. Young Pavel and Hikaru were with him, the latter comforting the other with a hand hooked on his elbow, whose eyes glistened with barely held back tears. He thinks that’s George - _Sam, he remembers_ \- against the wall with his wife, despondent in their chattering. Near them was Winona - _fucking bitch, she was never there for him_ \- who gazed out of the window with a blank gaze. If he didn’t know better, Bones would have thought he was looking at Spock. But since he did, he knew that if he were to turn around and really look at the Vulcan, he would see so much _emotion_. Pain, anger, sadness, fear...

 

But there were other people here who he didn’t know, and most certainly didn’t appreciate being here. There were children who, in their naivete didn’t understand the situation at hand, fidgeted in place, uncomfortable with the emotions whirling around the room. His lip curled in distaste when an older couple nearby were talking about the Captain’s - _not anymore_ \- party life. What did they know? They didn’t know Jim Kirk like his senior officers did; like Leonard did.

 

Blue eyes scanned the room, searching faces for any sort of familiarity, but found none. With nothing to occupy his vision, his attention was drawn to the corpse in the middle of the room. The lump in his throat hardened and an ugly sob came forth unbidden. Thankfully, no one paid him any attention, he wasn’t sure how much he could handle anymore.

 

So focused on getting his demeanor under control, he almost didn’t notice when Spock brushed past him, the smell of chocolate left in his wake. The half-human stopped once he reached Jim’s head, a hand stiffly reaching for the lax face before pulling back at the last second.

 

“Good evening and welcome all,” His baritone voice was quiet but effectively stopped all conversation. Briefly, Bones wondered why the First Officer was presenting the eulogy, but then he remembered that neither Winona nor Sam had prepared one. Couldn’t bear it, they had said. _God, he hated the woman even more now,_ “I will hope that tonight, we can mourn the Captain’s - Jim’s - life as it was, instead of as it could be.”

 

In this heavy pause, Leonard allowed himself to take a deep breath and prepare himself for the words that were to represent all of them. He might as well have been delivering the speech himself, and was mighty glad he didn’t have to.

 

“When I first met Jim, he was a cadet. Most that he met could only see him as the famous George Kirk’s son, not bothering to look past this fact and see him for who he truly was. I was no different. I am ashamed of myself to say that my first impression of him was that he was brash, undisciplined, and highly illogical,” Spock sighed and gripped the mug tighter, and Bone thought he could hear the ceramic squeal in protest, “Captain James Kirk was his own man, full of life and love. He treated his crew with the utmost respect, like we were family. And if I may speak on behalf of the _Enterprise_ ’s crew, we felt the very same. No, he was not a perfect man, nor did he try to be one. He understood his flaws, and embraced them with all he had. Very few humans that I have met have been able to act in such a way.

 

“Over these last couple of years, I have had the chance to know the man I called my Captain. He was most fond of our chess games, he loved 20th century classic rock, he was allergic to strawberries, and he prefered vanilla over any other flavour of ice cream,” A few chuckles, one that Leonard couldn’t even stop from escaping his own lips, “He took a few minutes of his time to talk to a yeoman every day, he was exceptionally skilled with younglings of every species, he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, and he did not hesitate to offer up his own life to ensure the lives of everyone on his ship.”

 

He could hear Chekov whimper, and a quick glance in his direction showed Sulu slipping a shaking arm around his shoulders. Neither were comforted by the motion - _who could be, looking at Jim’s blank face?_

 

Bones felt cool air ghost across his cheeks. He raised a hand to wipe at it, only to realize he was crying. _Not here, not now._

 

“As a Vulcan, the teachings of Surak taught me that undisciplined emotions were illogical, and that I must exercise utter control over my reactions. I had touted, merely days before, that fear of death was as such, because all of us must meet our end one day. Yet, as I watched him die, separated by a thick sheet of glass that saved the rest of us from irradiation, I failed in not feeling. I cried, and I screamed. I pursued the man responsible, and attempted to destroy him with my bare hands.

 

“I let myself be compromised, because Jim was my friend. As he always will be.”

 

The Vulcan’s brown eyes refused to meet anyone’s in the room, heavy with sadness and regret. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but nothing more was said. The silence seemed to stretch for hour, when in all reality it was two minutes, “To James Tiberius Kirk,” _Shut up Bones, what are you doing,_ “The greatest captain a crew could ever ask for. Our greatest friend and the greatest man to ever live.”

 

“To James,” Was the monotonous response, their glasses raised in the air in a toast to a man long gone. For the first time that evening, McCoy downed the scotch in his glass, grimacing at the taste. The ice had long since melted.

 

He didn’t move from his spot as people meandered their way to the kitchen, eager to drown their sorrows in the comfort that was food. He would join them later.

  
Right now, he wanted to wallow in self-pity and despite what Spock had said, he also wanted to think about what could have been.


	2. Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I nailed Spock's personality in this chapter, but not for a lack of trying.

**** “The boy never knew when to quit.”

 

This time, the mug in his hands actually broke into pieces, the scant remnants of the hot chocolate running down his fingers. It was fortunate that he was standing over the sink, getting ready to rinse the mug that his Captain once owned.

 

The glares of disapproval were brief, but easily ignored in favour of Nyota’s insistence in helping him clean up the mess he created. As he scooped up the many shards of ceramic and carried them to the trash, he listened to the conversation that had vexed him so. Being Vulcan, he normally would not allow himself to listen to such ‘gossip’ that humans - and other species on occasion - indulged themselves in, but he found comfort in the fact that he was only half.

 

“He alway had to be the daring, brave hero. That much could be seen in his bar fights that he always managed to land himself in,” Spock could not bring himself to fathom how the mother could speak so ill of her own child. Nyota had explained one time that human relationships were fragile, and easily changed by opinion and circumstance. He found this behaviour odd for on Vulcan -  _ New Vulcan, he had to remind himself _ \- it was highly improbable for a mother or father to treat their own offspring in such a way. Young life was cherished, due to their low conception and birth rate.

 

“Calm yourself, Spock,” His significant other laid a bare hand on his wrist. He could feel her pushing emotions of  _ safety, comfort, concern  _  through their connection. In this instance, he allowed a small smile to grace his lips, the action unfamiliar.

 

“It’s probably better for everyone that he’s dead.”

 

And it was gone in an instant.

 

Uhura didn’t stop him this time when a growl escaped his lips, fiery brown eyes turning onto the offending source. There stood Commander Winona, a scowl on her red lips as she glared into her flute of champagne -  _  it was his understanding that such liquids were ingested at times of celebration, not mourning. _ The few people who were in conversation with her looked mildly uncomfortable in her presence.

 

It took him five point two-seven second to make his way around the counter and to grasp Jim’s mother harshly by the arm. 

 

“I wish to speak with you in private, Commander,” She moved to protest, but Spock interrupted her, “You would wish to avoid a scene at this time, would you not?” Shooting a helpless glance at the staring guests, she  acquiesced shakily. Nyota’s eyes followed them through the sliding glass door leading into the back yard, the crickets chirping despite the winter cold.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Winona hissed venomously, her unease forgotten in the face of her ‘adversary’. She wrenched her arm from his grasp once the door had closed. The  _ Enterprise’s _ First Officer had heard many things about the Kirk matriarch: she was ruthless in battle, beautiful and noble. But these did not seem to apply to those she should call family, he saw the woman for who she really was.

 

“Could you explain to me your behaviour back there?” Spock was deadly quiet, his nails biting into the palms of his hands in an attempt to reign in his temper, “And how such actions could possibly be befitting of a Starfleet officer?”

 

“I did nothing wrong, Vulcan,” Her words were harsh as she spat his heritage at him, like it was a filthy word.  _ Fascinating. A Xenophobe as well, _ “Why should I have to explain myself to you?”

 

Spock brought his fists behind his back to hide the green blood falling to the dry dirt at his feet, “I am unsure of whether you are trying to - as you humans say - pull a fast one on me. Surely you must understand what it is you did that could warrant my reaction,” His face remained passive, his features perfectly schooled to hide his emotions. Yes, he was angry, but he knew it took a lot more to compromise his control -  _ like Khan _ , “In what way, pray tell, were your words back there appropriate to say of your son?”

 

Sharp eyes narrowed, “I was only speaking the truth, not like you would know what he was truly like. You didn’t raise him.”

 

A slanted brow rose to his hairline, “You are correct, I did not,” The brief look of triumph that crossed her features did not last long, “But from what I have known and been told, neither did you.”

 

Winona’s face became blotchy with rage, “How dare you-?”

 

“No, how dare  _ you _ ,” The First Officer didn’t hesitate to get into her space, staring down at her as a dark look settled onto his face, “How dare you speak such ill words of your son, when you were never there for him when he needed you? You stand here, alive, spreading lies about my Captain while he can’t even breathe a word to defend himself? Have you no shame?”

 

“How can there be shame when there’s none to feel?”

 

Those words made his breath leave his body. There was nothing he could say to this woman before him to make her see the error of her ways.  _ Why am I wasting my time on such foolish endeavours? _ Jim had told him what it was like growing up without his mother, who only saw George Kirk when she looked at her youngest. Who could not see past a child’s naivete when he claimed his Uncle was ‘really mean’. Who ignored his cries after Tarsus and didn’t see him as the little boy with so much to lose.

 

He pulled back, the fire in his gut dying with each passing second, “I would think it wise if you were to leave the premises. You are no longer welcome here.”

 

“You can’t make me leave!”

 

“Yes he can,” Even with his enhanced hearing, he had failed to notice Nyota leave the house and approach the two of them, “And I would listen to him if I were you; he could very well make you too, if he wanted. Which I don’t doubt.”

 

With a huff, the older woman swiftly turned on her heel to go back into the house, but Spock stopped her, “Stop.”

 

“I thought I was to leave?” Her tone was icy.

 

“Not through there you won’t,” Uhura allowed a scowl to warp her pretty face, “I think you should go the other away. You know, around?”

 

The silence was almost suffocating, but in the end, Winona made her way to her hover car and drove off at high speeds. Spock didn’t allow himself to relax until her rear lights were no longer in sight. He said nothing when his girlfriend took him gently by the elbow, guiding him back inside. 

  
_ Back to the stares and the whispers and  _ Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews help!


	3. Chekov

The food had no flavour to him -  _ No, he didn’t doubt Nyota’s skills to make a mean casserole _ \- and he was sure it was because it just wasn’t worth it to enjoy anything he ate. In reality, he was only humouring the Japanese man by his side, who had put a little of everything on his plate -  _ what a nice person. _

 

“How are you guys?” He recognized the good doctor’s voice and he was vaguely aware of Hikaru answering for the both of them, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at the Captain’s best friend.

 

After all, it was his fault that James Kirk had died.

 

“Hey. Hey don’t cry, Pavel,” He hadn’t even notice that tears were streaming down his cheeks -  _ he was that numb? Wow. _ Chekov felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to the warm body that was Hikaru, trying to comfort him with his presence. The kind gesture -  _ so much like the one the Captain offered him on many occasions _ \- made him sob harder, his small frame shaking with the force.

 

“It’s all my fault, ‘Karu!” The other guests gave him pitying looks as he stuttered, “I should have been smarter, or-or faster. Anyzing vould have prewented this, but now ze Keptain is dead because of me.”

 

McCoy said nothing as he took a seat on the other side of Pavel, the old couch springs groaning under his weight. A warm, calloused hand rubbed slow circles into his back. Another sign of comfort. The Russian refused to look at the doctor -  _ because what would he see? _ How could it be anything but blame?

 

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Sulu whispered, his voice heavy with an emotion Chekov could not identify, “It’s not your fault, there was nothing you could have done… Nothing  _ anyone _ could have done,” He wanted to object. He wanted to curse and scream and make a scene, denying the facts streaming for the Helmsman’s mouth.

 

“He’s right,” The gruff Georgian voice took him by surprise. These past couple of days, the doctor had been quiet and withdrawn, hardly speaking to anyone, “If we are to blame anyone, blame Khan.”

 

_ Khan. _ His tears ceased to flow and he felt his face heat in anger.  _ That  _ mudák , “I vish I could kill him wiz my own hands.”

 

“Spock might beat you to it,” Hikaru let a wry smile twist his lips and a choked laugh escaped McCoy, which was followed by a couple of coughs, “C’mon Bones, let’s go get you some food. I haven’t seen you eat yet. You’ll be okay for a bit, Pav?”

 

He nodded and they left without another word. Not that he minded much. He wasn’t truly ready to be alone yet, but he needed this time to think. Forking another mouthful of Nyota’s casserole past his lips, he pondered the events over the past couple of days. So he was wrong, it wasn’t really his fault.  _ What was it called? Ah, survivor’s guilt. _

 

But yes, it was the augment’s fault mostly.  _ No one liked to talk about Admiral Marcus.  _ He killed Pike, he tricked everyone, he designed the torpedoes, he attacked the ship, and it was he who misaligned the warp core. His blood was supposed to save Kirk, but didn’t. It all came down to Khan Noonien Singh in the end.

 

Spock’s words from his eulogy rang within his mind.

 

_ I will hope that tonight, we can mourn the Captain’s - Jim’s - life as it was, instead of as it could be. _

 

He was right, he wanted good memories of the Captain to linger, not the ones full of sorrow and regret.

 

* * *

 

_ “Chekov! There you are!” The voice of his Captain made him smile as he entered the Mess, the chatter of other crew members washing over him. The blonde man in his command shirt was waving at him, surrounded by the rest of the senior crew, “Come sit with us! I already got a plate for you!” _

 

_ “Aye, Keptain,” He could feel his cheeks ache from his grin, but he couldn’t help himself. He was just so  _ happy.  _ He took the space between Scotty and Hikaru once he reached them, the latter giving him a firm clap on the shoulder. _

 

_ “Guess what? I managed to program the replicators to make your favourite dishes,” With those words, Kirk pushed forward a plate containing Shashlyik and a small bowl of mushroom julienne, “It took a few tries but I think I managed to get it right,” He brought up a hand to rub at the back of his neck nervously, something Chekov noticed he did a lot when being sincere. _

 

_ He was sure there were stars in his eyes. _

 

_ “You remembered vhen I said this is most favourite dish?” _

 

_ “It is only logical the good Captain remembered, as he recalls even the smallest details of conversations he deems important,” Spock stated, the smallest twitch of his lips indicated his amusement and Kirk blushed with a ‘gosh Spock’, “If only he remembered to do so when it came to debriefs on away missions.” _

 

_ Nyota let out a burst of bright laughter while the rest sniggered at the Captain’s expense. _

 

_ “I must say I agree with the hobgoblin on this one,” McCoy stated, laying his tray down beside Jim with a solid ‘clack’, “And that’s saying something.” _

 

_ “Oh no, Scotty! Is the galaxy ending?” The Captain grabbed the engineer by his shoulders, eyes wide in mock fright as he shook him back and forth, “It has to be! Bones agreed with Spock, of all people!” _

 

_ “I think I must agree wi’ you on tha’, Captain,” The Scotsman grinned crookedly, “There’s a wee chance the galaxy won’ collapse with such a turn o’ events!” _

 

_ “How illogical. There’s only a point zero-zero-zero-zero-three-zero-eight percent chance of the galaxy collapsing from such actions.” _

 

_ “He’s jokin’ you pointy eared fool!” _

 

_ As they laughed and ate, Chekov realized something. _

 

_ This was his family. Not the one he was born into, but the one he has chosen, and he knew in this moment he would never give it up for anything. _

 

_ And for now, he was content to watch the people he cared about smile without a care in the world while he ate. The flavours danced on his tongue, and he knew for sure that his Captain was the best there ever was. _

 

* * *

  
  


One of the best days of his life in his opinion, and in recalling that evening, he felt much lighter since that fateful day. Pavel understood that not everyone will find such good feelings with the same ease as he did, but he will always be here for his family to help them through this. He was the best candidate anyways.

  
_ Because after all, happiness was invented in Russia. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried not to be obnoxious with portraying Scotty's and Pavel's accents, but I'm afraid I might have done too much. So sorry!
> 
> This one was the hardest to write so far, because I'm unfamiliar with his character. But I guess just thinking 'adorable and Russian' sorta helped.
> 
> mudák - Russian for 'asshole' or of that ilk, not in Cyrillic


	4. Sulu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could heard the squeal of leather as Spock, who was in front of him, gripped the handle tighter. They were all hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest, and was the hardest to write. This chapter makes no fucking sense to me.

In Sulu’s opinion, the actual funeral was much more worse than the wake. Here, he had to be composed because he represented Starfleet. No tears, no smiles. Nothing. Here, he had to carry his Captain’s dead body.  _ Like an emotionless robot. _ Luckily, he learned from the best. 

 

They grunted when they lifted the Mahogany casket onto their shoulders.  _ Heavy, like their hearts. _

 

The 21-gun salute sounded, and it took everything not to flinch as the bullets left their barrels with a loud bang.  _ So loud. _

 

He could heard the squeal of leather as Spock, who was in front of him, gripped the handle tighter.  _ They were all hurting. _

 

They set the casket just before the hole that was dug and lifted the Federation flag, the fabric folded as a group effort. He couldn’t bring himself to look at McCoy, who stood in front of him.  _ Bones was burying his best friend. _

 

As per tradition, the triangle that was now the flag was given to the living relative of the deceased. That would be Jim’s mother in this situation. Brown eyes wanted to narrow in contempt when he took his place in the front row, perpendicular to Admiral Archer and Winona.

 

He had heard what she had said at her own son’s wake, from Nyota’s own lips. She shouldn’t be allowed here, in his opinion.

 

Words were said from the Bible -  _ the Kirk family is Catholic huh? _ \- that meant nothing to a lot of people there. Where was this God when Kirk was in the warp chamber? Where was he when the  _ U.S.S. Vengeance  _ crashed just before Starfleet Headquarters? He wasn’t Christian, by any means, but he had lost his own faith in his own religion after Khan, Marcus…  _ everything. _

 

When he was a child, his mother was the most influential person on his moral development. No gods or myths warped over time. Nothing of the sort. Mrs. Sulu always told him to follow his heart -  _ more like his gut _ \- because more often than not, he was right. Her words were proven multiple times over his adolescent years as he picked fights with people he knew he could beat, or when it was the right time to swing against his opponent in his hand-to-hand combat class when he was in his early twenties.

 

That same gut feeling -  _ called instinct of course -  _ told him to trust his Captain. It told him he was a good man: someone he could trust, someone who had a heart of gold…  _ someone he was comfortable with to hold his life in their hands. _

 

He understood the concept of divine beings not having time for the peskiest of mortal problems. But by no means were the events of the past couple weeks  _ minor. _

  
_ Was it that hard for someone - with the power to actually stop this madness - to intervene? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I apologize for the shitty chapter but I spent two days writing and re-writing it.


	5. Scotty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another swig, more burning, more depressing thoughts.

Montgomery Scott had never felt so shitty in his life.

_Yeah okay, maybe it was because he was so fucking drunk_ \- but maybe it was because he was a right bastard.

_"We'll be dead before we make the climb!"_

He winced, and downed another glass of his whiskey. _Enterprise_ brewed. Brewed in the same room that... that...

_Dammit_.

Another swig, more burning, more depressing thoughts.

The Scotsman was sure he wasn't the only one to believe he was at fault. But he sure as Hell was sure he was the only one whose feelings were in the right place. He felt guilt about everything. Not stopping Jim sooner. Not calling Bones. Not sticking with Kirk from the beginning. Not watching Khan when he should have been. _Everything._

Keenser made a sound from somewhere behind him, tinkering with a small piece of technology. He's been an unwavering pillar of support this past month. _He couldn't ask for a better companion._

His PADD beeped, indicating an incoming call. Acting on autopilot, he pulled the tablet-like device closer to himself and answered, not even bother to see who the caller ID was, "This is Scotty," He grunted.

"Hey. It's McCoy," Scotty wasn't sure if the doctor sounded drunk or not. He himself was too wasted to really tell.

"Hello doctor, what cannae do for ye?"

Pause.

"You still planetside? In San Francisco?"

"O' course," He breathed out, "Where else would I be?"

"'M just wonderin'," The 'back on the _Enterprise_ like everyone else' went unsaid.

"Why did ye really call, if ye mind me askin'? Seems right strange for ye to call just for the sake of it."

Another pause.

"'M tired of drinking myself silly."

"I'm the last person ye should be callin' abou' this, McCoy. I'm hardly a sober man," He laughed a bitter laugh, the sound harsh against his throat. He downed the rest of his whiskey as if to prove a point - _not like he could see him_ \- before refilling the glass.

"And I can't stop thinking..."

This made the engineer halt his hand in raising the glass. He didn't notice that Keenser was no longer working and now had his undivided attention on him.

"Yeah, well, join the club," Who was he to offer comfort? He couldn't even help himself, "Yer a human. 'S what we humans do."

"Did you resign your commission too?"

"...Aye."

"You couldn't go back either, could you?"

A sigh.

"No. I couldn't. Not after all tha'..." This calls for another drink. _How many has he had?_ "Cannae assume the same can be said for ye?"

"Yeah... I just... couldn't imagine goin' up there and see their faces, without seeing his," The speakers crackled when Bones released a heavy, downtrodden sigh, "He was the only reason I stayed after Nero."

"I know."

"Have you spoken to the others?"

_He means the ones that are able to function properly?_ "No. Just like you can't look at them, I can't speak to them."

After the press conferences were out of the way, the meetings concluded and the trial - _only a formality because Khan got what he deserved in the end_ \- over, the _Enterprise_ was set to go on its five year mission. Everyone, save for McCoy and himself, went back to serve.

Spock had said it was his duty.

Nyota had said she couldn't turn down her career, nor leave Spock on his own - _they were all scared of what the Vulcan might do in his grief._

Pavel had said he was doing it for Jim.

Hikaru had said he needed to watch out for the young Russian.

"I guess it might be for the best," Scotty could hear ice clinking against glass. Now he had no doubts about the man drinking, "Look... I shouldn't stay on long. I've got to go see Joanna tomorrow, and I can't do that hungover. Imagine what the ex-wife would say?"

_Nothing good._

"Ye go do tha'. Maybe, soon, we can go out an' get a drink sometime. After all, no sense in gettin' drunk off our asses and lamentin' alone. Keenser here can't get tha' wasted."

"Yeah," McCoy said softly, and it almost broke his heart, "Yeah, I think I would like that."

"You go get some sleep now."

"Scotty?"

"Yeah?"

"You know it's not your fault, right?" _Bullshite it's not_ , "As Spock would say, ' _Kaiidth'._ At least, that's what I think the hobgoblin says. It means 'what is, is'. There's nothing you could've done to change what happened."

"I don't know abou' th-"

"No. I won't hear it. It's not your fault."

"...Okay. Whatever ye say."

"Just... sleep on it," The doctor said quietly, clearly exasperated, "Wait until I'm with you to get drunk again, 'kay?"

"Go to bed, ya mad bastard."

"Goodnight, Scotty."

"'Night, Bones."

He didn't move for awhile, and just stared at nothing until he fell asleep. When he awoke early the next morning, a blanket was covering his body and a painkiller hypo had replaced his empty glass from the night before. _That Keenser._

The light on his PADD blinked blue in the dim light. A sore arm reached over to open the message.

* * *

**To:** mscott

**From:** lmccoy

**Subject:** Dammit

Looks like I'll still be hungover. If I don't check in within 24 hours, assume Jocelyn's killed me.

* * *

He smiled, and for a moment Scotty hoped.

_Maybe everything will be alright in the end._   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I wasn't too obnoxious with the accent.


	6. Uhura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was just a little too much, even for her. And the ‘send’ button was glaring her in the face.

She wasn’t sure if this was the best of ideas. Nyota thought she could handle it - _she was so sure_ \-  but sometimes she overestimated herself.

 

Sitting at her station everyday, she had to deal with the fact that, while some things never change, nothing was the way it used to be. Sulu would always be the Helmsman, Chekov would always be the Navigator, Spock would always be First Officer, and she would always be in Communications.

 

But Sulu couldn’t get away with off-coloured jokes, Chekov was often scolded for his heavy accent, Spock was reprimanded when he allowed some sass to enter his voice, and she herself was often berated for her sarcasm.

 

Crew morale - mostly made up of the same people since the events of Khan - dropped from 98% to 69%, leaving a lot of Starfleet officers unhappy and even more depressed than when they started. This also made the new Captain cranky, as Admiral Archer kept calling privately to point out this fact.

 

All because of Matthew Decker. _What an asshole._

 

He sat in the chair, much like how Kirk would sit _\- relaxed, calm -_ but their demeanors couldn’t be more different. Where Jim had allowed the alcohol, Matthew didn’t - it was against protocol, he had screamed when he swept through every cabin before they had departed. The new CMO nearly wet himself when they found Bones’ secret stash in his office.

 

Where Jim allowed the poker nights and crew-wide betting pools, Matthew had stormed them himself in a cold rage, taking visible credits for himself - _apparently they lost the privilege to own them if they were so irresponsible -_ and filing official reports.

 

Where Jim allowed fun and relaxation, Matthew allowed none.

 

He was a callous Captain. No, he wasn’t necessarily bad at his job - _he was pretty damn good -_ but he may as well had been Vulcan. She remembered one time when Spock had said he was like ‘if Stonn had come to the decision to join Starfleet and strive towards being a Captain, despite how illogical such a thought may sound.’

 

This was just a little too much, even for her. And the ‘send’ button was glaring her in the face.

 

She hadn’t notified anyone of her decision yet, and she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to in the end. She could imagine them arguing with her, telling Nyota that the crew had to stick together after everything that had happened. _But wasn’t the crew already cracked and broken?_

 

Besides, it’s not like she’s risking her career. She wasn’t leaving Starfleet altogether, which was the best option she had for being a xenolinguist, she just wanted to transfer ships, and it was now or never. In approximately five days the _U.S.S. Farragut_ would be in close enough range for her to beam aboard and pick up a position similar to the one she had now.

 

The only thing she had left to lose now was her career.

 

Her relationships were never going to be the same again.

 

So she hit ‘send’.

* * *

 

“Lieutenant Uhura, if you would be so kind as to meet me in my ready room, there are things I would like to discuss with you,” _How polite of him to ask, as if she had a choice._

 

“Yes, Captain,” She ignored the steady gaze of Spock that stayed glued to her back as she followed behind Decker. Nyota continued to say nothing more as she stood in the centre of the room, watching as Decker sat down at his desk and steepled his fingers at his chin. He didn’t say anything either. At least, not at first.

 

She shifted under his gaze. _Say something._

 

He stared at her intently. _Is this about...?_

 

The spot over his shoulder seemed interesting now. _Is this a form of torture?_

 

“Do you know why I summoned you in here?” _Finally_.

 

“I have an idea, sir.”

 

“Is that so, Lieutenant?”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

Another bout of silence.

 

More fidgeting.

 

“When I was having a nice breakfast this morning, I was going through the paperwork that had gathered when I had retired for the night,” _Yeesh, what a way to beat around the bush._ He sighed and reclined in his chair, one arm swinging over the stiff back and the other laying on his desk, fingers tapping a rhythm unknown to her, “Just the usual work. Status reports on the engines, data from the labs… But then a request for the strangest thing revealed itself to me. Something I haven’t had asked of me in my twenty years of captaincy in Starfleet.”

 

“Sir, if I may-,” He raised a hand and she quieted.

 

“I’m not finished,” Her cheeks flushed, “The request was for transference to the _U.S.S. Farragut._ While I admire your initiative to attempt at furthering your career, this action of yours leaves me quite puzzled. The _Enterprise_ is the most prestigious and regarded ship of the Fleet. So tell me, why would you want to leave this ship?”

 

Nyota swallowed audibly, “With all due respect, I don’t think the _Enterprise_ is for me. Not anymore, at the very least.”

 

“But it was.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“What changed?” _Is this guy for real?_

 

“I’m sure you are aware of the late Captain Kirk’s passing, and the events of Khan, Captain.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Then I must admit I don’t understand what you’re asking me, sir.”

 

“Were you close with your last Captain?” _Now that’s a tricky question, what is he getting at?_

 

“I wouldn’t say that. I held him in the highest of my respects though, sir.”

 

“I understand, Uhura. Losing a good man - particularly one you saw on a daily basis - can effect the strongest of people,” His face was kept carefully blank, and she felt sweat gather at her brow, “It must be hard to see me in the chair instead James Kirk. Is it not?”

 

She didn’t want to admit this weakness, but she had a feeling he already knew the answer, “Yes… sir.”

 

“But,” He enunciated the word and it took everything not to wince, “You have friends on this ship. I have heard the bridge crew of this ship are particularly close. Not to mention, Spock, your intended. Why leave them - him - behind?”

 

She hesitated, “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

 

“Granted, Lieutenant.”

 

“Ever since Captain Kirk passed nothing has been the same with any of us. I walk the halls and I see him. I see the chair and I see him. I eat in the mess and I hear his laughter. His memory haunts me, waiting for me around every corner. As for the bridge crew, we hardly speak anymore And my relationship with Spock has been… strained this past month. He can’t look at me; I can’t look at him. I’m afraid that he may annul our engagement, and if he doesn’t, then I will.”

 

“That doesn’t seem reasonable, Uhura.”

 

“What reason would that be, sir?”

 

He let loose a gust of air in frustration, and his eyebrow twitched briefly, “You’re basically telling me that you want to transfer because you want to run away.”

 

 _That’s not what she meant to say_ , “I wouldn’t s-.”

 

“It’s the truth, Lieutenant. There’s no use in denying it.”

 

“I… I guess you’re right, Captain.” _What a blow to her pride that was._

 

A bark of laughter caused her to nearly jump five feet in the air. _This man laughs?_

 

“Of course I’m right,” While he chuckled she stuttered.

 

“S-sir, please, I understand if it isn’t reason enough for you but-”

 

“I signed off on it, Uhura.”

 

“If you could just try to… what?” _Was it really that easy?_

 

“I know the crew doesn’t like me a lot. But despite what you may think of me, Lieutenant, I can be a very understanding man. I may be strict and a ‘jackass’ - as I’ve heard Sulu call me on occassion - but I have a heart. You’re hurting. I get it.”

 

“I don’t know what to say, sir.”

 

“Just a ‘thank you’ will suffice,” He smirked, and she was reminded of Kirk for a moment, “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain,” She turned to leave, slightly humiliated. As the door to the bridge slid open with a hiss, he called out to her.

 

“Uhura.”

 

“Yes, Captain?”

 

“Be sure to tell Spock, at least,” From the corner of her vision, she could see the mentioned Vulcan stiffen and turn his head towards her, a brow raised. Well now she _had_ to tell him.

 

“Yes… sir,” He did that on purpose - waiting for the door to open and taking advantage of a Vulcan’s superior hearing - she was sure of it.

  
_Jackass._


	7. Seven Years Later...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the beginning to the end, we boldly go....
> 
> In which everyone finds their happy ending.

It was a tough journey, for all of them. Anyone who said that none of them felt anything would have to be blind and an asshole. _There’s always several of them._

 

But he was proud of how far they’ve gone since that fateful day, finally climbing out of the darkness and making the most of their lives.

 

Nyota, after transferring, furthered her career like she always wanted. She was now the most sought after Xenolinguist in the Federation, and could go anywhere she wanted. But she chose to remain on the _U.S.S. Farragut,_ where she had made new friends and created a new life for herself. It took some work to get where she was, and a lot of heartache, but she found happiness. So he was happy.

 

Scotty eventually resumed his position on the _Enterprise_ , now serving under her new Captain _\- not Decker anymore thank God, the man was a nightmare_ \- and bringing the ‘Silver Lady’ back up to speed. He also fine tuned his brewery to accommodate Vodka, much to Pavel’s delight. Keenser never left his side of course, and he had to admit that the small alien was as loyal as they came. Scotty found happiness, so he was happy.

 

Hikaru managed to ride out his anger at the injustice of religion by resuming his fencing exercises, mercilessly taking down his sparring partners with little more than welts from the flexible metal. He also met a wonderful man - _one which he totally approved of, by the way_ \- by the name of Benjamin. After a year of dating, the two men finally decided to make it official. It didn’t take them long to file for adoption of a little girl named Demora. One look at the innocent kid, and what anger he had held on for almost three years had dissipated. Hikaru found happiness, so he was happy.

 

Pavel made his way up the chain of command, and is now no longer the baby faced Ensign that had once served under Captain Kirk, but is now the _Enterprise’s_ new Captain’s XO - _it’s like watching your own kid grow up_ . To the awe of everyone around him, his navigational skills have gotten even better, and he’s been invited on numerous occasions to hold workshops at Starfleet Academy to share the discoveries he has made in his field. Pavel had found happiness a while ago - _invented in Russia, remember?_ \- so he was happy.

 

Speaking of the new Captain, after Matthew Decker had finally retired, First Officer Spock became Captain S’chn T’gai Spock of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ . Many of what Jim had once enforced and allowed on the ship was reinstated, and crew morale was boosted up to 96%. The only difference was that there was more logic when decisions were made - _who would be surprised at that?_ In the seven years, he has also allowed his more human side to show through his Vulcan mask, making the man more approachable and efficient in his Captaincy. He ended up bonding to a full-blooded female Vulcan by the name of T’Seng after Nyota left. It wasn’t a loveless bond, but a strong one that Vafer Tor recognized as _T’hy’la._ For once in his life, Spock actually _found_ happiness _,_ so he was happy.

 

Then there was Bones. Sweet, sweet Bones. He never rejoined Starfleet as an officer, but he was offered a position at the Academy to teach wet-behind-the-ears cadets about what and what not to do in high-risk situations. He finally won full custody over Joanna when someone filed a complaint about Jocelyn’s party life, which often left the kid unsupervised and left to her own devices for long periods of time. She’s in her teens now, which McCoy isn’t sure he can handle, but he’s doing a damn good job so far. Since finally having responsibility over a child, he had toned down on the bourbon quite a bit. He never quit drinking - _that’s impossible to ask of someone, especially Bones._ But there were nights where he’d sit in his study, Joanna having finished her homework for that day and snoring the night away, just staring into space. He hadn’t moved on as much as the others had, but thinking about Jim didn’t hurt as much anymore. So, even if he wasn’t at his best, Leonard McCoy found that he was happy.

 

And so Jim was happy.

  
_And that was all he needed to move on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, this is literally the first multi-chaptered fanfiction that I've finished. Aren't you proud?
> 
> As always, comments are welcome!


End file.
